


Clunt and the Four Stooges

by katnisspond



Series: Family Is What You Make It [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie just Does Shit sometimes, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Just Add Kittens, M/M, Richie should never be in charge of naming anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29700753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katnisspond/pseuds/katnisspond
Summary: After a decades long debate (with a brief pause in the middle) Eddie dogs-are-better-fuck-you Kaspbrak brings home a stray cat. A stray pregnant cat. Because this is just how they are.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Family Is What You Make It [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2182728
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Clunt and the Four Stooges

Fridays were odd in the Tozier household by every standard. Richie would run late night sets while Eddie worked half days, meaning Richie (the morning person of the two) would wake up midday right as Manhattan Analytics released it’s upper level corporate officials. Then they’d have breakfast for lunch, and as Eddie would wind down for the day, Richie would depart for the comedy club. He’d wander back in around 2 AM and collapse into bed with his sleepy husband. It was rough on Richie’s sleep schedule to sync back up with Eddie’s over the weekend but he never complained, not when Eddie was just as eager to while away Saturday morning in bed, tangled beneath the sheets. 

Not once for 27 years of hookups and one fitful, abusive marriage, had either of them expected to be the cuddly type. With a new pair of rings inscribed with R+E, they couldn’t pretend to doubt it anymore. Eddie whined that he’d wither away like an unwatered plant without Richie’s arms around him and Richie didn’t bother visualizing a world without Eddie anymore. It was impossible. No more reasons for heartache lingered around every corner. They were happy. 

Richie smiled as his phone buzzed on the counter across from him, a loud urgent pound on the granite. He sat his coffee cup aside on the kitchen bar and investigated. He was expecting some update from Ben on his, Stan, and Mike’s camping trip that would be ending later that week but was instead greeted with the unflatteringly cute profile picture he’d set for Eddie’s contact. The one where he could see Eddie’s nose hairs. It was adorable. Richie slid the answer button and sat the phone down on speaker phone with the intent of making some pancakes. 

“Yellow, yellow, zeez is Reechie,” he said cheerily. 

“A pregnant cat was under my car.” Richie paused to process, turning to look at the phone like it was Eddie himself. Eddie said it so matter-of-factly too. The flour went back in the cupboard.

"Désolée, répétez s'il vous plaît?" The room was quiet for a moment.

“...Did you go from whatever the fuck that first one was to French-?” 

“Yes that was French,” Richie interjected, sidling back up to the counter. “Any context or are we describing our surroundings apparently. I mean, it’s slightly cloudy, the dishes aren’t put away-” 

“No, shut up. I’m saying we need to have a spot to stick the pregnant cat.” Richie paused. 

“In our apartment.” 

“Yes.” Richie gave a forced cough to voice his concern and Eddie gave a grumble. “We’re not leaving her here, dude.” 

“You mean you aren’t,” Richie corrected just to be an asshole. “I, however, am not there to assist you in wrangling this pregnant cat.” 

“Fuck off. And I didn’t have to. She sniffed my hand and wandered out so I stuck her in the passenger seat.” 

“Huh,” Richie mused with a growing smile. A memory resurfaced of Eddie playing with Mike’s dog on the farm, tumbling into the grass and getting his knee highs stained as he giggled in the dirt. Richie hadn’t followed Eddie into the weeds because he was too busy watching with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. It was one of the few times Richie was frozen by the overwhelming love he felt for the boy, even when they were kids. A heartfelt bookmark in the pages of their decades long tale. “Well, shit. I guess you have to take her home then.” 

“Exactly.” There was a weird squawk from Eddie’s side of the call. “Maybe we can cop the dog bed Stan left behind. Call it payback for getting a fucking pomeranian. Exposure therapy my ass,” he muttered under his breath “I’ll pick up La Madeleine's if you pull something together real quick.” Richie grabbed his phone and abandoned his coffee in favor of the guest room closet, where the dog bed was sure to be tucked away. 

“You got it, Eds. Should we call up Mike on this one?” 

“Probably. I’ll do that. See you in a few, dumbass.” Spoken like sweetheart. 

“See ya, dearest~” As the dial tone sounded, Richie tossed his IPhone to the bed and dove into the closet, nearly getting knocked in the head by a falling hockey stick of Bill’s. This was their friends’ lost and found closet after all. 

According to Wikihow, pregnant cats did some nesting and shit so Richie set about building the best imitation of a nest he could make, laying out towels in the corner of their bedroom and praying that Eddie stopped to purchase a litter box. It was doubtful that the stray cat would know to use it but it was the thought that counted. Suddenly, he remembered  _ Eddie  _ was his husband and merely texted ‘gates to block off in room :)’, to which Eddie gave a thumbs up because of course he was hitting a pet store. 

After that. Richie wound up sitting at the base of their bed on the floor and scrolling through Twitter to pass the time, steadily realizing that they were about to have a cat. Eddie was bringing home a cat. Well, more like a cat infestation to be. They’d obviously considered pets before but it was always the same argument: Richie would want a cat but Eddie wanted some Maine Coon sized monstrosity that would take extreme maintenance and are small dog sized anyway. Eddie would want a dog but Richie would want to downsize to some pocket pet that Eddie has no respect for because they’d be the size of a cat. Both had come to a tentative agreement that neither compromise would bring joy (even though they’d still get attached etc. etc. but they’re  _ stubborn _ alright?) 

Knowing the cat could’ve been given to a shelter with no fuss from Richie, he took Eddie’s surrender to the feline side of the argument as an act of love. He knew his husband’s competitive side. No white flag was too small to be notable in this household, especially for the trivial shit. 

Six whole threads written on his incognito gaming Twitter later, a knock sounded from the front door, sparking Richie into action. Eddie was a notorious one tripper so Richie could only hope the cat wasn’t balanced precariously on top of some Amazon box or container of pet food. Luckily, Eddie was only carrying an inhuman amount of bags for one person and no other living beings. 

“Shit, Eddie, didja buy the whole fucking store?” Eddie scoffed and heaved the bags onto the kitchen counter in a hurry. His tongue stuck out with the effort lifting as he swung them from Richie’s reach on purpose.

“We’re not just buying for one cat, man. She’s fucking gigantic. We need to get her to the vet before we actually get her set up at home.” 

“Oh shit, good point,” Richie said with his eyebrows raised. Eddie thunked some cat food cans in his hands and set about washing the food dishes. 

“Find a spot for those and crack one. I don’t know if she’s eaten or not on the streets.” Richie did as Eddie told but his brain went elsewhere. 

“Do you think I could workshop a mom bit out of this pregnant cat scenario? Something about-” 

“If you say something along the lines of knocking up a cat, I  _ will _ strangle you. No one wants to hear that, dear,” Eddie replied instantly, like he didn’t have a smile fighting to break free. Richie kissed his temple while passing by. 

“So if we feed her in the crisis van-”

“Escalade, you jackhole-” 

“-and take her to the vet and if she checks out- What, she’s just our cat now?” Eddie gave a pleased shrug, pretending to be nonchalant. 

“I guess so.” Richie chuckled at his antics. 

“You’re excited, aren’t you?  _ Eddie Tozier finally got a pet _ ,” he teased childishly, wrapping around Eddie’s midsection from behind to sway them accordingly because he felt like it. Eddie was beaming. 

“Stop it, we need to focus on getting back out the door before she shits in the car or something.” 

“Interior design is nothing to be ashamed of, Edward,” Richie said into the back of Eddie’s head, finally getting swatted back to the cat food with a clean dish in hand. Eddie dried off his hands and set about lugging the remaining bags down the hall. 

“It is when it smells like cat shit!”

Finally, after all this had already been decided on and occurred, it was time to meet their new addition. On the way down to the parking garage, Eddie had warned him that she needed a bath and probably a shave since her fur was all knotted, striking Richie as even sweeter at how easily Eddie had taken the poor thing in. They were both absolutely determined to play it cool about this but Richie already knew he’d be the first to break upon seeing her. 

“Any names in mind?” Richie wiggled his eyebrows as their apartment complex’s elevator gave it’s final ding. 

“You’re a terrible horrible person and I want you to pick,” Eddie replied. 

“You just don’t want to be held accountable for liking whatever I come up with,” Richie replied over a low giggle. 

When the Escalade’s door swung open, Richie realized he’d been played. With those bright blue eyes and tan waves through her long, temporarily gross coat. The cat was fucking  _ huge _ , not just circumference wise but she was just an extremely large cat. Babies or not, she could suffocate them both in their sleep simultaneously all by laying down in the right spot. She clearly had claws as the passenger seat would suggest with a surprising lack of a reaction from Eddie on that front. Her tail swept back and forth over the leather. The dirty, beached whale of a cat looked up at Richie and meowed with a squeak reminiscent of scraped piano strings.

She was perfect. 

“Oh my god.” Eddie broke out in a grin, dimples like the grand canyon. 

“I know right.” 

“Eddie, she’s amazing. What the fuck?” Richie reached a hand out for her to sniff, met with an immediate face rub as if she recognized him or something. 

“She’s a complete bastard too. Already gnawed Ben’s friendship bracelet off of my keys and wrecked the fucking car seat.” Richie turned but the cat gave another meow-screech, recalling his attention. 

“The  _ attitude _ . That’s it. This is her forever home. No one can stop us.” Eddie went for the driver seat, patting Richie’s hip as he went. 

“Glad we’re on the same page. Unless you want her in your lap, you’re relegated to the backseat.” Richie giggled and leaned down as she repeatedly aimed for one side of her face, guiding his hand around to her liking. Her fur was so fucking gross but petting her felt like crack for some reason. Pure joy. 

“Oh, I’m so gonna lap-ify this cat. I’m going to become a part-time kitty mattress as a legal career decision. No one can contend with a résumé like that.”

“Doesn’t the guy who plays IronMan have alpacas?” 

“If Robert Downey Jr. and I apply for the same role, something will have gone terribly wrong in one or both of our lives.” Eddie paused buckling his seat belt. 

“Yeah, you’d be more of a Hawkeye type,” he said after some intense thought. Richie snorted as he slid his hand under the enormous cat in preparation to pick her up. She yelled at him accordingly. 

“Jeremy Renner. You meanie. Hey, doesn’t Hawkeye have to fucking  _ see _ though? Woah, woah, calm down, kitty. Air lift time, you’re fine.” The cat was unconvinced but Richie only held her up long enough to slide into the passenger side and make her new seat his lap. “That would make you Natasha, right? Which, I mean, fair. You and Bev have always been twinsies.” Eddie rolled his eyes. The Escalade roared to life and Richie began patting the distressed furball in his lap. Her front claws were not being kind to his thigh and her face was buried in the dish he was holding gingerly near her face.

“Nat and Clint weren’t married in the movies.”

“And? Maybe we’re comic book Bow Widow? Ever think of that?” Eddie frowned his ‘judging you’ frown. 

“BowWidow? Bow isn’t even in Hawkeye’s name, you weirdo. It’d be something like BlackHawk or-.” Richie suddenly lit up and Eddie withered. “No-” 

“BlackHawk!” Richie said excitedly. 

“-We are not naming our cat after a fucking comic book character’s relationship name abomination.” Richie's expression grew devious. 

“Fine. Nutasha with a ‘u’. Alternatively, Clunt.” Eddie shook his head and laughed as the cat gave a particularly loud meow. 

“God. Even she hates it. Look at that, she’s yelling at you,” he replied. Richie scratched the back of her head and felt warm fuzzies as her chest vibrated with appreciation. 

“Liar. She’s like you, all bark no bite.” 

“I literally bit you three days ago.” Eddie was right, he actually had bit Richie’s knuckle over a disagreement over pancakes versus waffles. And that wasn’t counting the night before. Eddie was a very bitey man. 

“So you’re saying the cat is better than you at not biting people?” Richie said. Eddie sputtered

“Fuck you. No. I’m saying that-“ 

“Tough words, Spaghettiman-“

“-as a cat she is bound to bite when she’s threatened-“

“-coming from he who also bit Bev last month!“ 

“-and honestly, that’s a good philosophy to live by! Who wouldn’t recoil when bitten by any living thing-“ 

“Oh so we’re going the snake route-“

“-so why not use that to our adava- I’m talking about the cat, not a fucking snake!” 

“Crocodile, shark, do bats bite people?”

“You landed on fucking bats?! What do bats have to do with this?!” 

“They rhyme with cats.” Richie hid his grin beneath his hand as Eddie blue screened at a red light, the GPS asking him to turn left four times. 

“Fuck you.” Eddie replied simply. 

On the drive over, they’d effectively rejected the names  _ Mrs. K, Mother, Bookshelf, Babymaker, Kitten Creator, Babadook, Waffle,  _ and the thrilling alternative  _ FuckWaffle _ . It’s fairly obvious who's responsible for what. Eddie pretended to be exhausted as they stepped out into the bustling street outside of the veterinarian's office but they both knew the conversation had recharged his batteries after a long workday. 

“How may I help you?” The secretary at the front desk in her pale blue scrubs eyed their cat carrier, probably already picking up on the smell. Luckily, Post-Sewer Clown, Richie had learned to feel zero shame regarding walking into public places smelling like literal shit. When the secretary’s eyes then met Richie’s shirt (a picture of Beverly doing the splits over Mike’s head holding six margaritas) and still didn’t smile, he knew Eddie should definitely polite pod person his way through this interaction. 

“Hi. We found a pregnant stray we’d like to officially adopt and get a formal check up.” The secretary raised her eyebrows and gave a huff. 

“Right. That’s…” she pushed back to her desk and began clicking through tabs. “Let me see here. Can you wait 30 minutes? We’re currently all booked up.” Eddie gave a succinct nod and some kind response that didn’t at all match the slight furrow in his brow. Granted no one else but Richie could pick up on that. It was a gift of Richie’s to always know what was going on in Eddie’s head, one he especially delighted in when Eddie was feeling particularly contrarian. 

Along the back seating, they were met with a growling Doberman. Richie grinned and waved at them to which the owner gave an appreciative smile. 

“Shouldn’t be long, right?” he whispered to Eddie once they were seated. His husband shifted uncomfortably, pulling the cat carrier onto his lap and putting his hand up to her face to sniff and rub up against. 

“Hopefully. I don’t like making her sit in this thing. It’s been what, an hour or two? No litter box, if she even knows how to use one, and it’s gotta feel gross being all muddy like that.” Richie’s arm rested over Eddie’s shoulders as he sat back, taking up an obnoxious amount of space beside the tightly packed Eddie whose back was straight and knees together. 

“Well, she was always going to be that gross until you yoinked her so I wouldn’t worry too hard on that front.” Eddie’s concerned expression soured and Richie knew his distraction was working. 

“Yoinked. Fucking yoinked. I’m going to delete your Twitter account as a national service.” 

“You can yoink the man from the yoink but you can’t yoink the yoink from the man.” Eddie nearly shook with trying to contain his laughter. He swallowed it down with a deep breath. 

“You’re the worst. I didn’t think that word could possibly have less meaning yet here we are.” Richie hummed in agreement. 

“Here we are indeed…” He and Eddie shared a look and a smile. It was all there, the endless well of appreciation they both had for being  _ alive _ at this point, let alone happily married and preparing to adopt their first pet(s). Once the nurse had called ‘Tozier’ they had already settled into each other’s sides and begun to chat idly about Eddie’s day, just like any other. 

  
  



End file.
